Blood and Tears
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: In a world of pain and blood, those you can trust are few and far between, and the enemy hides closer than you think. Vampire AU. Shounen ai TezuOishi, onesided Golden Pair, SenDan, AtoKaba, Troika.
1. Tension

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: I promised a friend of mine a vampire AU. See me deliver.

* * *

Blood and Tears

Prologue

Tension

The scent is driving him mad.

He knows he should just ignore it, not pay any attention to it, but such a thing is becoming increasingly more impossible. He cannot think of anything but the scent, can't concentrate on anything, can't help but look that way every five minutes. It could be explicable if it were the scent of blood, no matter what he can't ignore the scent of blood, but it's not. It's just… sweat, and healthiness, and the particular scent of the person, and he can't help but look into its direction whenever the scent reaches his nostrils again.

Maybe it's attraction, his traitorous mind suggests. Maybe he actually finds himself drawn to this person in particular and his fascination with their scent is just a symptom of that. He desperately wishes it isn't so, though; his life is difficult enough already without such problems. It'd be impossible, anyway. Attraction or not, he knows trouble when he sees it.

He just hopes the trouble won't see him, just yet.

Days pass and convince him it's true, he really has fallen for the worst person ever, the kind of a person he should avoid like the plague. He dreams of them as he dozes off in class, thinks of them as he stays awake at night, is driven mad by their scent every single day and can't help it at all. He can't do anything about it, though, can't become too involved, he's too involved already and he really should put some distance between them – a lot of it – but he can't do it and they are friends besides and it's all just so very, very difficult.

Damn himself, really, for falling for that stupid, gentle, dangerous and ever so caring Oishi Shuichirou.

And damn Oishi Shuichirou for being a hunter.

* * *

He's been having nightmares for quite a while, now.

It's normal, he knows, for someone like him. He's talked with others as well and knows that there are few who don't have them, so very few whose dreams aren't plagued with fear and death and so, so much blood. He dreams of pain, of battles, of wide innocent eyes staring up to the sky, unseeing. He dreams of losing things he values more than life itself, of gaining things he would rather die than receive. It's all so real he often wakes up with a scream, drenched in sweat, and the worst part of it is that some of it is indeed real and some of it may some day be.

Others are starting to notice, he suspects, his lack of sleep quite obvious when he dozes off at school, but it's those who ask him anything about it who will never truly know. He smiles at everyone who asks, says he's just been busy, you know, staying up late on his computer or watching the TV or working on his homework after spending the day out with friends, and everyone just laughs and believes him and never doubts his word. Those who will never ask just look at him, a sign of sympathy in their eyes, or try to smile and appear cheerful only for him to catch a hint of sadness in their eyes when they don't think he's looking. Probably he's the same way, himself, smiling when he'd rather cry, laughing when he'd rather lash out, doing his best to appear nice and cheerful and above all _normal_ if one doesn't know what to look for. That's why nobody suspects a thing. That's why he can keep doing this.

Sometimes he almost wishes he truly were too weak to do this, could just break down and give up, turn his back on all this and leave it behind and never look back. It's impossible, though, as he well knows, he's never been a quitter and never will be and therefore he can't help but fight on no matter how exhausted or sad or terrified he is. There are people who depend on him, people who expect him to lead them, who have no one but him even when they don't necessarily realize it. It's his responsibility to go on, and therefore he can never stop, and all he can do is keep walking his chosen path and hope with all his heart it will actually lead him somewhere and not end abruptly.

He dreams and the dreams are real, too real, and inside the dream he reaches out shaking hands to gently close a pair of wide eyes, far too wide, and the sickening scent of blood surrounds him and even inside the nightmare he feels like being sick.

The next day he looks even worse than usually, and those same eyes look at him questioningly, worriedly, and they are again far too wide and he has to bite back a choked sob even as he pretends to be smiling.

It's no use, the false smiles, as he well knows. The only ones he can fool are those who don't really matter. Those who matter… They can smell his fear, his frustration, his exhaustion. They can smell how much he fears death.

And it encourages them.

* * *

He will always follow.

It's perhaps not the best course of action, as he well knows; in fact, it might be just plain foolish. Nevertheless, he will always follow, always stay loyal, never sway from the side of his chosen master. He has no obligation, no responsibility, no ties beyond his own promise, own decision. And that is more than enough for him, more than anything else could ever be.

He sees horrible things, true, things he would much rather never know about, yet he never wavers, never for a second doubts his loyalty. To him, there's only one master, has only been one master ever since he was a mere child, and even if he dislikes the path his master has chosen to walk he will not abandon them. It's his nature, always following, always obeying, not questioning his master's decisions no matter what his own opinion may be. Only if he thinks the decision will have bad results does he speak up, only if no one else is hearing, because no matter what the motives it's still disrespectful and he would never shame his master by questioning him in front of others.

Maybe it's love, maybe it's something else, he doesn't know. All he knows is that he will follow his chosen master until the end.

Or, should the master require it of him, beyond.

* * *

He is hungry.

This is hardly a surprise; after all, he is always hungry. No matter how much he feeds, he never seems to get enough. Nothing could satisfy this thirst, no amount of pain or fear could make him happy. He needs more, more, always more than he's already got, always more than he is offered. What he wants, he takes from the others, and what he has no need for he discards without another thought.

He is a hunter of the purest kind, a predator chasing prey, not choosing his victims beyond their being easily available. Anyone who comes across him at the wrong moment is good enough, anyone he chooses is marked forever. There aren't deaths, not many at least, but the rare times it happens he feels little remorse – who would have pitied the game when the hunter was roaming freely? It was simply for the better for everyone to stay put and hide and hope they weren't next.

At one point he may have pitied them, may have felt some remorse, but if that has ever happened he has forgotten it by now. Now there are only potential victims for him, only victims and the excitement of the chase, and the sweet, sweet blood he gathers as a reward for his effort.

The blood, and the hunger, the hunger that never goes away.

And thus he will hunt.


	2. Meeting

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: The story will be mostly told from the PoV of Yamabuki and Seigaku, in turns. Later on we'll see more of Hyoutei and Rikkai as well, but through the entire story Yamabuki and Seigaku will be the most featured schools, main PoVs being Sengoku's and Eiji's.

* * *

Blood and Tears

Chapter 1

Meeting

The man Sengoku called Father was actually not related to him at all.

Most of the people who knew him would have never guessed this. They looked similar enough not to arouse suspicion, and his Father loved both Sengoku and his big sister as thought they truly were his own children. And, when it came down to it, Sengoku did love him like a father. The few times their lack of shared genetic background was brought up in the more enraged variety of the hormonal teenage quarrels it was soon apologized and forgiven for and then forgotten. As far as either of them was concerned, they were father and son, who cared about genes.

Sometimes, though, Sengoku was quite painfully reminded that it was not actually true. Especially when he had to deal with the more special genes he'd inherited without anyone to guide him.

His mother sometimes looked at him with a sad look in her eyes; it was obvious she knew just what his real father had left him even as no memories remained. He couldn't blame her, now could he. After all, it had been her who had lost his father.

Sometimes he was tempted to ask her, or perhaps his sister; it seemed somewhat unfair that he was the only one in the family who knew nothing about the man who had set him such a heavy fate. His current father probably even knew something about him, though Sengoku wasn't sure whether he knew about the oh-so-wonderful genes – his sister certainly didn't. He never asked, though, didn't ask them to tell him anything about his father nor tried to figure out just how much they knew in the first place. If they had memories, the memories had to hurt. To them his father wasn't just someone he knew had lived once; he'd been a breathing, living person they had loved. And lost.

He could just keep quiet and hope he wouldn't be the same to them some day.

His Father, the current one, seemed happy when he had friends over, even when these friends consisted of about half the tennis team; apparently seeing him being so social made up for all the noise a bunch of teenage guys could cause, and at least he knew they weren't up to no good when they were watching a movie or something in Sengoku's room. And besides, they did seem to be somewhat more quiet than your average teenagers during a sleepover.

If only he'd known what these teenagers schemed during their get-togethers.

"Are you sure it's okay for him to be here?" Muromachi asked quietly, leaning towards Sengoku even as he eyed Dan. The youngest boy sat apart from the others, looking a bit lonely, and it was only with a great effort that Sengoku could keep himself from going over to him. There'd be time for that later on. "You should know better than well that getting involved will put him in danger."

"He's already involved, Panda-chan." Sengoku sighed, keeping his voice low as well. "This mess already almost cost him his life. I think it's only fair for him to know what it's all about."

Though he'd spoken so quietly nobody but Muromachi could hear him, he noticed Dan's eyes flickering towards him. Ah, yes. There was no fooling this kid, now was there.

After a moment the general chatter slowly died, slowing down to a nigh-silent lull. This was when Sengoku cleared his throat, instantly gaining everyone's attention. Eyeing them one by one, he then started speaking very seriously.

"First, I'd like to address an issue Panda-chan just brought up." No matter how serious the situation, Sengoku would never give up on nicknames. He wouldn't have been Sengoku if he had – and he had to be Sengoku or the others wouldn't have had anyone to rely on. "As you can see, Dan-kun is here with us. Now, he's technically not one of us, but I do believe we can benefit from his participation. He knows the risks involved and I believe he fully understands what he's getting himself into. If anyone has a problem with this, I want you to bring up your protests now. I won't listen to any later on."

For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Minami spoke up. "Do forgive me," polite as he was, Minami showed no sign of questioning Sengoku's authority over him in this situation, "but while you claim Dan-kun is involved, you never told us exactly how this is. Not that I doubt your word, but I would feel better knowing for sure he isn't taking part just on a whim. This is not a game, after all."

"A reasonable question, I think. If Dan-kun won't mind…" Sengoku glanced at Dan, who shook his head. "Very well. Some time ago, I was taking a late walk. Suddenly, I sensed that something was wrong, and strayed from my usual path." Nobody said a word, all listening closely – except for Dan, who was very determinedly not looking at any of them. "It turned out I was right. I found Dan-kun being attacked." After a moment, he managed to continue. "I managed to fend off the attackers… just in time, too. Dan-kun was wounded but quite obviously survived." Sengoku looked Minami directly in the eye. "I do think he understands very well just how lethal a game we are playing, Kenta. He has the scars to show for it."

"…Oh." Minami lowered his eyes momentarily. "Forgive me for asking."

"You had every right to ask desu." Sengoku was almost startled to realize it was Dan who had spoken. "I'm not exactly one of you, like Sengoku-senpai said." The usually so loud and cheerful voice was very quiet now, his gaze still evasive.

"After that story, I for one have no protests about your involvement," Minami said. "It's better you get into this through us and stay out of actual battles than go out there and look into it by yourself."

"…Yeah." Dan's voice was even quieter now, and he was definitely not looking at anyone.

"So! Now that this issue has been taken care of, I'd like to go on," Sengoku said somewhat hurriedly. "Aside from the run-in with Dan-kun, does anyone have anything to share with the rest of us?" Of course, he required reports from them all, but it was for the better for everyone to hear the information. It made them better prepared, after all.

"I think there's someone rogue within our area," Higashikata spoke up. "At least three times now I've found signs of confrontations that have not been brought up with us."

"Entirely possible." Sengoku nodded. "We probably should look into it and try to find out their affiliation, don't you think?" Everyone seemed to agree. Not a miracle – the thought of anonymous freelancers working on their turf was hardly appealing. Unknown entities were always a possible threat.

"Ah – forgive me," a quiet voice interrupted. "Could you please give some more details as to when, where, and what kind of signs you found that support your claim?"

Higashikata blinked, looking at Dan. The little boy had a notebook and a pen ready, looking at him expectantly. "Ah – yeah, I suppose so. The first time was –"

Sengoku was quiet as Higashikata told Dan about his discoveries, watching the youngest boy carefully writing down every detail. Others joined in, too, telling of their own observations. Sengoku tried to listen but most of it went in through one ear and out through the other – he'd just wait for Dan to make some sense of the various observations and present it to him. That was what data was for, wasn't it.

Eventually the situation calmed down. They went through some other issues; various sightings, a brief confrontation that ended up with no losses to either side – a disappointment as much as a relief, some information on possible victims were all brought up to Sengoku. Dan took notes diligently; Sengoku suspected he was comparing everything with the data he'd got from the old reports Sengoku had presented to him.

Finally Sengoku nodded. "Okay, I believe that's all. What do you say we break the tension with a good movie?"

Nobody seemed inclined to protest. As they all huddled together before the TV screen, Sengoku inched closer to Dan. Wrapping an arm around the narrow shoulders, he murmured under his breath, too quietly for anyone else to catch the words. "You okay, kid?"

Dan nodded once, briefly, then leant against Sengoku with a sigh. Sengoku took a more secure hold of him, fingertips drawing tiny soothing circles on the slim arm. His mind only half on the movie, if even that much, he kept an eye on Dan the entire evening.

When it was the time to go to sleep, he gathered Dan close. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, his lips almost brushing against Dan's ear. The wry smile on Dan's face was enough of an answer.

Sengoku knew very well what the others would think, seeing the two of them under the same covers. He saw Minami shaking his head but didn't really care. The others hardly could think any worse of him than they already did when it came to this particular issue, and it wasn't as though he was doing anything inappropriate anyway, cute though Dan was.

The only thing he could think of was how very cold Dan felt as he reached an arm around the already sleeping boy.


	3. Musings

Disclaimer: I own very little.

* * *

Blood and Tears

Chapter 2  
Musings

If Eiji had been sensible at all, he would have left the Seigaku tennis club ages ago.

It was getting harder and harder by every passing day. Putting on a cheerful face, hiding what he was, lying low all the time to avoid discovery – it was painful. He loved his friends there, he very much did, but most of these friends also presented a great danger to him. Should Inui, for example, discover his secret… There was no doubt Inui was one of them, he always knew everything after all, and Eiji doubted Inui would have much mercy for his kind.

Few people liked vampires, after all.

It was still somewhat hard to believe – it hadn't been that long ago that he'd thought that vampires were just a legend, vampires and hunters and the whole mess. Ghost stories were one thing, but actually claiming such beings walked among them, even today? Impossible, just impossible – or so Eiji had always thought. Until the day he became one of the victims.

It was still something of a blur inside his head, the whole thing – but then again, he doubted many people had very clear memories of the night they died. He'd been outside late, that much he knew, running as always, you could never be too fast after all, when suddenly someone had appeared beside him. This alone had been impossible enough – how could someone actually keep up with him? – but the next moment the strange person had reached out a hand, grasping on him and bringing him to a complete halt. Before he'd managed to make a sound, there'd been a hand over his mouth, then a sharp pain in his neck followed by a strangely mellow feeling. At that moment he hadn't cared about anything. Anything could have been done to him and he wouldn't have as much as blinked.

The next thing he'd known, he'd been lying on the street, staring up to the sky. The stranger had left, leaving behind an oddly empty feeling. Slowly falling towards unconsciousness, Eiji had realized with horrifying clarity he was going to die.

This was when He had appeared.

He had talked to Eiji, called his name, asked if he wanted to die yet. And Eiji had responded, desperately, no of course he didn't want to die, he was too young, had experienced too little, he hadn't even gathered the courage yet to tell Oishi he loved him. There'd been a hand, after that, a soothing hand on his brow and another on his neck, and suddenly the smell of blood surrounding him had been just a little stronger.

It had stung, at first, and he had whimpered, then shrieked as the pain grew more intense, only to be silenced by a hand over his mouth again. Eiji had found himself falling down, down, into some kind of endless darkness that wasn't simply the safety of unconsciousness… and then jerked back in a way that was painful even in its bittersweet relief.

This was when He had spoken again. He had told Eiji what he had just become – how he had just died. He had told Eiji what his life would be now, what he would have to remember to survive, how he could hide what he was – and who he had to look out for. Other vampires had been on top of the list, as few of them had kind motives or goals. And the other group, equally dangerous if not more… the hunters. Hunters, the men of legends, humans with extraordinary powers that both enabled and required them to fight vampires. The only kind of people aside from priests actually capable of killing vampires – and the only kind who actively sought to do so.

The kind of people, Eiji had soon discovered, that also included Oishi. His beloved Oishi.

If his crush on his doubles partner had been difficult before, now it seemed almost impossible to handle. Much thought he loved Oishi, Eiji couldn't allow himself to get close to him; if he did that, he would be risking discovery and the death that would surely follow. Oishi was his friend, yes, his best friend and doubles partner and the person he loved the most, but if Oishi ever found out what he had become, Oishi wouldn't hesitate one moment before disposing of him. This was what He had told Eiji, among other things.

And then He had left, without a goodbye, simply telling Eiji never to tell anyone what had happened, nor just who he had talked with. And Eiji had nodded, as he understood, and knew just how much He was risking just by helping him out. As far as he was concerned, the person he met that night – the person who brought him back to life – was just a faceless shadow in the night he was never going to meet again.

If only forgetting Oishi had been as easy.

He almost wished he could just forget, just turn around and leave it all behind, the tennis club and his old friends and above all Oishi. But it was impossible, as he well knew. He loved his friends, he loved tennis, and above all he loved Oishi, his Oishi, the one person who was close enough to him for their souls to merge. The Synchro, Eiji believed, was a sign of so strong a bond that nothing could ever rival it. It was all the proof he needed to believe in soul mates.

Except he didn't dare enter Synchro, anymore. He didn't dare risk Oishi feeling what he felt. If Oishi discovered the feelings coursing through him, the constant hunger, the pain… if Oishi knew… if the hunter knew…

That was something he could never allow to happen. And thus he was afraid.

Thankfully, there had been no reason to initiate Synchro since he'd been infected; it was quite straining and difficult to achieve, and thus they only relied on it when there was no other choice left. Given that the National tournament was already over, such occasions were rare, if not inexistent. They weren't called Japan's best middle school doubles pair for nothing; they could take on almost anyone even without the clear advantage Synchro gave them. Nothing but Rikkai had ever been able to push them that far.

Never before had Eiji been as scared of facing a strong opponent as he was now.

"Eiji." The hand settled on his shoulder almost made him jump out of his skin. "Eiji, is everything all right? You seem kind of out of sorts today."

Startled, Eiji whirled around, cursing his inattentiveness even as he found himself looking right at Oishi's worried eyes. "Oh, no!" he hurried to say. "I mean, yes, of course! Everything's right. Just splendid. Wonderful, really. I was just… thinking about something, nyaa."

Oishi smiled a bit. "Don't strain yourself too much with that, Eiji," he teased Eiji. "You know thinking is not exactly one of your strengths…"

"Nyaa, Oishi's so mean!" Eiji pouted, hoping to distract Oishi from his earlier less than happy appearance. "Fuji! Oi, Fujiko! Oishi's being a meanie. Can I play Doubles with you?"

"I'm sorry, Eijiko," Fuji replied with a smile. "I really must get this move right with Taka-san. You'll just have to bear with Oishi's meanness, I'm afraid."

"Nyaa, not even Fujiko is any help!" Pouring some more mock anger into his voice, Eiji then grasped on Oishi's arm, making sure not to grip too tightly. "Oooishiii… Why do you have to be so mean?"

"Because someone has to make sure you don't melt yourself with your own sweetness." Oishi ruffled his hair, and Eiji felt a wave of warmth rushing through him, ending up as a blush on his cheeks.

He couldn't help but notice how much Oishi smelled of sweat, of hard work and effort, and his heart started to race. For a fleeting moment he almost forgot himself, almost reached for the hand ruffling his hair, almost said something he could never take back – and then Tezuka was there, asking for Oishi, and Oishi smiled at him and apologized and went to the captain, and suddenly his scent and warmth and voice were all away.

Eiji almost wanted to weep but he didn't, continuing with the practice routine, his eyes flickering over to Oishi every now and then. Oishi and Tezuka were talking, and Oishi smiled a lot and Eiji was certain he spied something like an expression on Tezuka's face, too, and he felt a stab of jealousy for what those two had, so similar and yet so different from what Oishi and he had.

He watched, and thought, and never noticed the eyes watching him in turn.


	4. Weakness

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: In case there's anyone reading this: The teams involved are Seigaku, Hyoutei, Yamabuki, and Rikkai. Feel free to submit your guesses as to the humans/vampires/hunters in each club. First one to get an entire team right gets a fic request. And yes, that means four chances.

* * *

Blood and Tears

Chapter 3  
Weakness

There was somebody already waiting by the clubroom when he arrived, Sengoku noticed, seeing a familiar figure leaning against the wall. The person was easy enough to recognize – there weren't many blue-haired guys that short in the team. Only one, to be exact. Dan's eyes seemed to be closed, his head bowed as though he were deep in thought, lean arms folded across his chest.

As Sengoku walked closer, Dan didn't open his eyes. "Good morning, Sengoku-senpai," he just said, nodding in greeting.

"Dan-kun," Sengoku replied, digging through his pocket for the clubroom key. "You're here early."

"Not that much earlier than usually desu." Dan pushed himself off the wall, now, eyes opening to look at Sengoku. "I usually am the first one to arrive, am I not?"

"Of the team, yes, but you usually don't arrive until after me," Sengoku pointed out, struggling with the lock. "Behold, it is open… Anyway, you are often early, yes, but this is early even for you, manager or player. So what's the matter?" Stepping inside, he added, "Come on in."

"Just didn't feel like sleeping anymore, I guess desu." Dan followed him into the clubroom, then suddenly stopped in the middle of the doorway, not continuing to the lockers. As Sengoku turned to look at him questioningly, he lowered his gaze. "I… didn't sleep at all last night."

"Dan-kun?" Sengoku frowned. "That's really not good for you, you know."

"Trust me, I know that desu." Dan sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair as he finally started walking again, heading for his locker. "I just… couldn't sleep desu. So I just… thought."

For a moment, Sengoku watched Dan as he started changing clothes. Finally, Sengoku smiled somewhat humourlessly, walking to Dan's side. Ruffling the blue hair, he did his best to sound cheerful. "Aww, cheer up, Dan-kun! You're just tired because of your sudden insomnia. I'm sure things will look up once you manage to regain your energy a bit."

"I never said I was feeling down desu." Nevertheless, it wasn't until now that Dan flashed Sengoku the usual smile Sengoku knew and – the smile Sengoku knew. Seeing it made Sengoku feel oddly relieved. Something had truly been missing until just now.

"Well, try not to look like you are, then." After one last ruffle, Sengoku let his hand fall from Dan's hair, briefly brushing the pale cheek as he lowered his hand. "It won't do good for the team's morale if our little happy bunny looks depressed."

"Don't call me that." However, as the smile didn't fade from the small face Sengoku concluded that Dan didn't really mind the nickname.

Soon enough the other members of the team started to arrive. None seemed too surprised to find Dan already there – like he had said, he was usually among the very first to arrive. On the other hand, they also didn't seem to find it very odd that he stayed close to Sengoku.

Soon enough everyone was done with the oh so burdensome task of changing clothes, which Sengoku took as a sign it was fine to start the practice. Happily he led his team out to the courts. Well, okay, so maybe Minami had something to do with it too, but anyway. Lead he did.

The beginning of the practice was uneventful enough. Tsuzuki-kun called to tell that he was sick and couldn't even come to school, never mind practice, which, truth be told, didn't upset Sengoku all that much. Their club wasn't perhaps as large as some other schools', but every club always had someone whose absence wasn't much of a loss. In Yamabuki, it was definitely Tsuzuki-kun.

So concentrated he was on the call, no really Tsuzuki-kun, don't worry about it, take your time and get better okay, that he didn't even notice the mishap on the court first. When he heard the buzz he turned to look, seeing a little first year – thankfully not Dan – fighting against tears. Judging by the blood on his leg and the ground, he had landed rather badly. Sengoku shook his head. Acrobatics really weren't for everyone.

After arranging for someone to take the poor boy to the nurse – the wound wasn't as bad as it looked, he was sure, but the kid did look rather shaken – he put some effort into making the semi-chaos calm down. It wasn't until everyone was reasonably soothed that he realized someone else was missing as well. He wasn't the only one to notice this, either.

"Huh?" Minami glanced around. "Where did Dan-kun go? I could swear he was here just a moment ago."

"Ah… he isn't too fond of seeing blood," Sengoku said with the best chuckle he could manage. "I think he went to the clubroom. I probably should check on him…" At least he very much hoped Dan was in the clubroom…

"Please do." Minami frowned. "That's funny. I never knew he was afraid of blood…"

"People can surprise you." After a quick glance to make sure nobody else was close enough to hear, Sengoku added quietly, "To be honest, Dan-kun didn't have a problem, either, until… until that night."

Minami nodded seriously. "That's quite understandable, then."

Not chatting further, Sengoku just nodded, hurrying towards the clubroom. Opening the door, he looked inside. "Dan-kun?"

"I'm here." Dan's voice sounded somewhat strained. "Don't – don't come closer desu."

Frowning, Sengoku stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. Dan was sitting in a chair at the other end of the room, his head hung low. "Are you feeling all right?"

"No, I'm not desu." Dan raised his gaze now, and Sengoku stepped back, startled. The usually brown eyes were glowing with an almost red light. "I… I'm hungry."

"Oh, Dan-kun." Sengoku bit his lip. "Is there anything I can do?" He took a tentative step forward, only to stop as he heard a warning hiss.

"Go away desu." Dan lowered his gaze again. "I'll be all right in a moment if you'll just let me collect my thoughts for a moment. Just… go desu."

Sengoku hesitated, then nodded. "I'll make sure nobody else comes in here," he promised. "Join us once you're feeling better."

"…Thank you desu." Dan's hands were clenched together, his knuckles white. Sengoku swallowed as he left the clubroom.

He really should become an actor, Sengoku thought as he walked back to Minami, his best carefree grin firmly on place. "Dan-kun looked a bit faint so I told him to rest for a while," he said, just the right amount of sympathy in his voice before lowering it some more. "He's a bit freaked out at the moment, though, so if you see anyone going in, please stop them. The poor kid needs a moment alone."

At this, Minami nodded. "Understood."

Lies, lies, lies, thought Sengoku, again grinning as he turned towards the rest of the team. Most of them could never know the truth, and even those he could trust only knew half of it. It didn't feel good, hiding the truth from the likes of Muromachi and Minami, but he had no choice. He owed that much to Dan, at least. Only Dan could know the whole truth about this.

Perhaps, Sengoku found himself thinking, perhaps Dan knew even more than he did.

* * *

"…I'm proud of you, Dan-kun."

"Huh?" Dan turned to look at Sengoku, walking beside him. It had become something of a habit for them to walk home together, at least until Sengoku's house, which was closer to the school than Dan's. "What do you mean, Sengoku-senpai?"

"Today's morning practice, of course." Sengoku smiled. "You handled it very well."

"…Hardly." Dan hung his head. "I… I almost lost control there desu."

"But you didn't. And that's what counts." Sengoku set his hand on Dan's shoulder. "Well done, Dan-kun." After they had walked in silence for a moment, he asked, "Are you coming over? My mum wants to feed you again."

"Your mum wants to feed everyone," Dan chuckled. "I… I'd like it, but… I'm always coming over, nowadays desu."

"And that's a good thing! My parents are convinced that when I spend time with you it means I'm not getting into trouble. And besides, you know they adore you. They've told you often enough." Sengoku grasped on Dan's hand. "Okay, no protests accepted. You're coming with me."

Accepted or not, Dan didn't even try to voice any protests as he was led towards Sengoku's house. He also didn't make any effort to separate Sengoku's hand from his. Both facts made Sengoku smile.

It was days like this one that truly reminded him of what it really meant to be "lucky."


	5. Pain

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: Yes, _finally._ I sincerely apologize for the long wait, but as you might know from my profile, my laptop crashed recently, taking all my fics with it. After losing seven full chapters, I really didn't feel like rewriting them right away.

* * *

Blood and Tears

Chapter 4  
Pain

Oishi quite enjoyed the brief moment of silence before people flooded the clubroom for morning practice. He always took a moment just to stand quietly and take in the familiar smells of the clubroom, sweat and dirt and hopes and dreams. Maybe he was something of a romantic, in a rather weird, very male way, but he couldn't help but think of all that when he felt the unique smell of the place.

There were footsteps behind him, almost purposefully loud, and he felt a smile tugging at his lips. "You needn't be so careful, Tezuka," he said, turning around to face his friend. "I noticed you coming a moment ago already, as you should well know."

"I just didn't want to startle you." The captain walked closer, stopping a few steps' worth away from him.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite that easy to startle." Oishi chuckled slightly. "But thank you for your consideration, all the same."

"Only for you." There was a touch of a smile on Tezuka's face, unnoticeable to most people but rather obvious to Oishi. Tezuka stepped a bit closer, looking Oishi in the eye. "You seem to be well today."

"That I am," Oishi replied, smiling openly. "For some reason, I feel excellent today."

"I'm glad to hear that." Tezuka raised his hand, briefly brushing it against Oishi's cheek before stepping even closer, his lips lightly touching Oishi's before he drew back. "You taste healthy, too."

"Such a romantic you are, Tezuka." Nevertheless, Oishi's smile didn't fade, not even when the other players arrived and Tezuka's usual stoic mask fell firmly in place.

During the practice, however, he found his smile indeed fading. There was obviously something wrong with Eiji, like he'd been fearing for a while now. His doubles partner had been more quiet than usual, and he smiled slightly less, too. Most people probably didn't even notice it, just like they would never notice Tezuka's smile, either, but Oishi knew Eiji better than anyone and thus spotted these changes easily. It was… worrying.

After practice he finally shared his concern with Tezuka. Instead of reassurances and soothing comments, however, he just got a confirmation for his suspicions.

"Kikumaru indeed does not seem to be too well," Tezuka said solemnly. "I would like to know why. It's affecting his game performance, which is unacceptable."

"I almost wish I could go to Synchro and try to find out," Oishi sighed. "But there's no excuse for doing that, and I know that if I ask him he'll just laugh and say it's nothing…"

"Then we'll give you an excuse." At Oishi's puzzled gaze, Tezuka just looked seriously back at him. "In the afternoon, we shall have doubles practice. You and Kikumaru will play against Momoshiro and Kaidou. That should give you enough of an incentive to launch Synchro."

"Thank you, Tezuka." Oishi smiled in relief. "You are too good."

"Only barely good enough for you." This time, the smile was a bit more obvious.

Too bad Oishi was too worried to take any true delight from this.

All through the school day, Oishi found himself being somewhat absent-minded in class, enough so that one of his teachers asked him worriedly whether everything was all right. Reassuring her that yes, everything was just fine, he'd just been a bit distracted and sorry about that, really, he already found himself thinking about Eiji's odd behaviour again. After the last class of the day let out, he practically ran all the way to the clubroom.

Nobody seemed to find anything wrong with the thought of doubles practice, although judging by some of the expressions Oishi was fairly sure a lot of the players wouldn't be concentrating on their own practice as much as they would be watching the most interesting match. That was all right, though; the only thing that mattered was finding out what was wrong with Eiji.

The match started out easily enough, soon heating up. It was clear that Kaidou and Momoshiro had come a long way from what they had used to be, now well able to give the Golden Pair a hard time in a match. As their game started getting more and more challenging, Oishi subtly dropped some of the defences around his mind, reaching out for Eiji's. If he did this right, it should appear like an unplanned Synchro to Eiji. If only Eiji was open to this…

Eiji, as it turned out, was open, too caught in the match to even notice Oishi's gentle mental probing. Doing his best to remember the very few times they had achieved Synchro on purpose, Oishi reached further, trying to merge their minds in that rather stunning way. And, finally, he managed.

He was suddenly flooded by emotions and feelings not his own. This was nothing new, he'd experienced it before, but… it wasn't the same. The usual cheerfulness and joy were almost completely gone, and in their place he found pain, fear, and an unbearable hunger he could not escape from. It was too strong, too much, it was eating him alive –

Oishi was only half aware of himself falling on his knees, crying out in pain. There were startled yells, Momo's, Kaidou's, Tezuka's, and from Eiji there was just a fearful whisper of, "Oh, gods…"

Then the fear grew even stronger, and he knew no more.

* * *

Slowly regaining his consciousness, Oishi blinked up at the familiar ceiling of the clubroom. A moment's thought concluded that he'd been laid on the bench, another confirmed that he was surrounded by the worried faces of other regulars, as well as quite a few other players. Just… not all the other regulars.

Eiji was missing.

"Oishi," Tezuka said, and there was worry in his voice that nobody else could probably detect. "How are you feeling?"

"I… I am all right. I guess." Oh, no. What exactly was he supposed to tell anyone? He hardly could tell them the true reason for his collapse, not all that – that fear. In an attempt to dally, he glanced around, then asked, "Where's Eiji?"

"Kikumaru was quite shaken about the whole ordeal," Inui replied, adjusting his glasses. "Considering how distraught he was, Tezuka considered it the best to send him home with a promise to contact him once you woke up. He did protest, as was to be expected, but complied in the end."

"…Oh." Oishi made to sit up, only to be stopped by Tezuka's hand on his chest. "I told you I'm all right, Tezuka."

"No, after that, you aren't." Tezuka looked at him seriously, so seriously that Oishi wondered whether he was only talking about the scream and collapsing. "Just lie down and relax for a bit."

"What was that, anyway, Oishi-senpai?" Momoshiro asked, his eyes wide. "You scared us half to death, you seriously did! Don't do something like that!"

"I do apologize, Momo," Oishi said wearily while desperately looking for an explanation. "It was not my intention. That said, I'm not exactly sure –"

"How Synchro would cause such a reaction. Entirely understandable." Ah, Inui. The eternal saviour where explanations were needed. "There was only a 3.14 percent chance that an unplanned Synchro would make the pain of your wrist injury return to mind, but it's still within the realm of possibility." There were expressions of understanding all around him – some more understanding than others. To those few who were more informed than the rest, a chance of 3.14 percents meant Inui was lying – and lying for a very specific reason.

"Woah, that must be horrible!" Momo exclaimed. "Is your wrist hurt again, now, Oishi-senpai?"

"Ah, no," Oishi replied, managing to force a small soothing smile on his face. "It's well and truly healed by now; it was just the pain that returned and startled me so."

"Nevertheless, I demand that you rest for another moment." Sending a glare around, Tezuka barked, "What are you all doing here? Practice is not over yet! 30 laps for laziness, everyone!"

After the last club member had disappeared outside, Tezuka crouched down and grasped on Oishi's hand. "…I am sorry. I should have warned you."

Oishi blinked. "You… knew?"

"I'm afraid I did." Tezuka sighed. "While he shielded himself well enough from you, he forgot to hide from me. I didn't know how to tell you, though, so I hoped this would let you know… However, I couldn't predict how deep an impact it would have on you. I apologize for being so careless."

"It's hardly your fault." Sighing as well, Oishi squeezed Tezuka's hand. "There was so much pain there, Tezuka… Pain and fear and… hunger."

"Yes." Tezuka's expression didn't change.

"Is it always like that, for you as well?" asked Oishi quietly. "How – how can you bear it?"

"It is not easy." Tezuka lowered his gaze until it settled on their joined hands. "But… you are helping. More so than you could ever possibly understand."

"If that is the case, I am glad." Oishi smiled briefly before sighing again. "Eiji… I have to talk to him. Have to make him understand."

"Do that." Tezuka nodded. "And when you do… try and see whether he is trustworthy. Don't say anything," he warned, raising a hand to silence Oishi as he opened his mouth, "I know you know him better than perhaps anyone. However, such an experience inevitably changes a person. All those feelings you discovered… they can affect someone in unpredictable ways. I do wish to trust Kikumaru, and it is my wish that he will prove himself worthy of that, but I just cannot know yet."

"…I understand." Oishi nodded minutely. "I will talk with him, and if he appears safe, I'll tell him to approach you."

"That's it." With one last squeeze of Oishi's hand, Tezuka let go, standing up. "I have to go now. You are not allowed to rise from that bench until the end of the practice. And no protests. I will not allow you to take any risks in this matter – not after such a cry."

Now, Oishi managed another faint smile. "…Understood, Tezuka-buchou."

"See that you obey, too. I would hate to make you run laps in your condition." As though he would.

Then Tezuka left, leaving Oishi all alone.


End file.
